


only fools rush in

by orphan_account



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Eloping, Fluff, Las Vegas, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M, Ninja Ship Party, Road Trips, Weddings, this shit is so sappy and saccharine bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 07:45:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12722475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In which Dan and Brian's secret Vegas wedding trip goes pleasantly awry.





	only fools rush in

**Author's Note:**

> This. This fic is my baby. I have been chipping away at it since spring, trying to force myself to keep up with writing, editing, seeing it through till the end -- and now it's finally finished, and I'm so fucking proud of it. I feel like it's one of the most cohesive fanworks that I've ever written, and I hope that you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed creating it!

Dan’s been antsy the entire day.

Brian’s used to antsy, it’s kind of Dan’s default – but this is an entire new level. He’s fidgety and pacey, keeps changing positions on the couch during Grump sessions, keeps wringing his hair. He stumbles over his words. He avoids Brian’s eye. If Dan could sweat properly, Brian is sure he’d be soaked. Normally Brian would ask, because he likes to be blunt, that’s his thing, but something about how Dan’s acting today makes him not want to push or pry. He wants to give Dan the chance to come out with whatever it is on his own terms.

And so, he waits. It’s driving him mad, but he keeps his quiet. Thinks of it like an experiment – and oh wow, that gets his scientist mind going, let’s observe the effects of being decidedly not-Brian over a 12-hour period – and before he knows it, it’s nearing midnight, and he and Dan are rounding up their last recording. Brian is feeling extremely jittery himself at this point ( _hour 12 of being not-Brian, test subject is showing all signs of going fucking crazy_ , goes his internal monologue).

Right when Brian is at his breaking point, Dan ends up grabbing Brian’s hands after turning off the capture, sitting back down on the couch and just pouring out everything in this whole stream-of-consciousness way, no preamble.

“Ok, so here’s the thing – you’re dorky, you’re a pretentious douchebag, you’re a fucking asshole, and you’re also sweet as fuck and have the prettiest eyes and a world without you just doesn’t make sense. And, shit, I wanna marry you because this is the longest relationship I’ve ever had. The longest either of us have ever had. All these milestones, all we’ve been through, I feel like, we’ve been a thing all this time, why not – why not seal the deal?”

Brian’s fuse fizzles out.

He’s rooted to the spot.

 _Hour 12 of being not-Brian,_ his internal monologue says dreamily, _test subject totally consumed by thoughts of how much he fucking loves Dan Avidan._

Okay, experiment’s over. Brian’s gotta be himself again and just fucking say something.

He laces his fingers with Dan’s and replies, with complete sincerity, “Only if we do it in Vegas.”

Dan grins brightly. He brings their joined hands up to his lips, kisses Brian’s knuckles over and over. Dan’s mouth is warm and soft. Brian’s skin tingles.

“Let’s make it a road trip,” Dan murmurs.

 

***

 

They leave the very next day, directly after work, in Brian’s little SUV. It’s a Friday. It only takes a few hours to get to Vegas. Their plan is to get hitched, hit a couple other sight-seeing places in the state, then head back home to surprise everyone on Monday.

As Brian pulls onto the highway, he thinks about how should probably be more nervous, but he honestly…isn’t. Making the permanent move back from London was riskier than this. There’s no pressure here.

Dan reaches over and casually rests his hand on Brian’s thigh. It’s nice; a gentle, warm weight through his jeans. A prog rock station is playing on the radio, interrupted from time to time by Siri chirping directions. The sun isn’t overbearing, there’s a great breeze whooshing through the open windows.

It’s all so simple and easy.

Dan turns to gaze at him.

“Have you thought about who’s gonna be our witness yet?” Dan asks. “And don’t say Elvis.”

“It’s not gonna be Elvis, don’t be stupid,” Brian replies.

“Really? So we’re not doing the cheesy 50-dollar chapel thing after all?”

“Uh, we are most definitely doing the cheesy chapel thing, that is the entire point of this trip,” Brian says. “We’re just not gonna have Elvis as witness – obviously, he’s gonna be officiating.” His voice oozes ‘duh’ and he’s straight-faced, but the crinkles near his eyes give away his joke.

“Of course! Silly me.” Dan smacks a hand over his eyes and puts on a warble-y, emotional voice. “I’m such a fucking idiot!”

“You’re a complete ditz,” Brian agrees. Dan breaks into a giggle fit, and Brian smiles and continues, “Least you’re cute. And to answer your original question, I have. Originally I thought it would be cool to get a complete stranger to do it, really get that full Vegas wedding fuckery experience, but then I remembered I have an old friend who lives in the area. I could call her up, if you want.” He glances over at Dan. “You haven’t told me who you were thinking of, yet.”

“I…was thinking about asking Dana, actually.” Dan’s smile grows when he mentions his sister. Brian can see it in his peripheral vision and it’s the cutest thing ever. “She’s supposed to be doing a piece in Vegas this weekend for her magazine – what kind of coincidence, right? But then I thought better of it because I know she’s going to tell Debbie and Avi. We’re pretty good at keeping secrets, but something like this? She’s just not gonna be able to resist, man. And I really do want it to be a surprise.”

“Plus, I’d imagine they’d be upset about not being invited. On top of the whole cheesy low-budget chapel thing.”

“Exactly! I just, don’t see myself doing a big blowout ceremony, anyways. I remember I was gonna do one of those fancy proposals for you at a restaurant with the staff helping and shit, and then I was like, why though? Why all the pretense?” Dan looks out the window at the horizon. “Why can’t I just tell my best friend what’s on my mind, you know?”

Brian’s all geared up to crack another deadpan joke, but leaves it, suddenly struck by Dan’s words.

“…That’s very poignant,” he says. He reaches down and grasps Dan’s hand on his thigh.

No matter how much fun it is to see their projects grow bolder and more extravagant, sometimes, it’s the simple pleasures that stick with you the most. Here they are, decent celebrities, no longer worrying about making rent, and more than able to have an upscale private ceremony – and yet they choose to run off on a desert adventure to tie the knot. Because they’re best friends, and this is the kind of thing best friends do.

“You can tell me anything,” Brian says seriously, squeezing Dan’s hand. “And we can do anything.”

 

***

 

The sun, the air, and the sounds of Styx on the radio lull Dan to sleep somewhere around the two-hour mark of the drive.

Brian catches glimpses of him every so often, when he’s able to take his eyes off the road for a split second to get a peek. Dan’s hair’s all over the place. One side’s crushed between his face and the window, and the rest fans out everywhere. His eyes are hidden, but the lower half of his face isn’t. There’s the faint curve of a smile on Dan’s lips.

Brian can’t resist pulling over and quietly snapping a picture.

 

***

 

When they pull up in front of Graceland Chapel, Dan blinks blearily and says, “Ok, I fucking hate this.”

Brian humors him. “You do?”

“Yeah, of course I do…!” Dan stretches and then winces at the crick in his neck. “First, ow, why didn’t you wake me up? Secondly, just…look at it.” It’s a tiny church. It’s got midnight blue roofing and an ornate, garish marquee sign reading WEDDING CHAPEL in light-up letters. There’s little stained-glass windows, and parked near the building is a pale pink car with music notes and Elvis lyrics printed all over it in pastel purple.

Brian looks. He shrugs. “I see it. I’ve seen it. You’ve seen it. Everyone who’s ever watched a movie has seen it numerous times. What’s your point?”

“It’s fucking hideous, Brian!”

“How is it worse than any of the NSP videos?”

“Don’t play dumb; clearly those are supposed to be funny!”

“I’m sorry, and the Elvis chapel trope is supposed to be played straight, right? Some deep, serious, traditional religious ceremony?” Brian rolls his eyes and pulls into the parking lot. He parks, unbuckles himself, turns in his seat to face Dan, who’s sleep-disheveled and looking fucking pained at this point. It’s such a 360 from earlier that the beginnings of anxiety start creeping up on Brian, threatening to take over. He forces himself to stay cool. “What’s going on?” He asks gently, eyes wide with concern. “You were all on board with this a few hours ago.”

And then a moment of ‘oh’ suddenly hits him in the chest.

“Danny,” says Brian carefully, “are you getting cold feet?” The words are like a giant stab wound. Brian’s heart stings more at Dan’s horrified face, and he quickly adds on, “I’m not blaming you! It’s quite the leap, I wouldn’t blame you for not wanting to make it yet.” _With me_ , goes unspoken.

Dan makes a strangled noise.

“No, no, no, no, no, it’s not that, I love you, I want you!” Dan grabs one of Brian’s hands between both of his own. “It’s not, it’s just…”

 _Oh, thank god,_ Brian thinks, exhaling deeply. “Would you rather have a regular wedding?”

“Oh god, fuck no.”

“Then what’s the deal?”

Dan bites his lips. His hands grip Brian’s hand tighter. “It’s, y’know, my parents…” He stares at their joined hands. “I know I’m beyond this, like, trying to be this perfect model son and doing life the ‘right way’, but it just still feels like I’m disappointing them again. Like, ‘Jesus, Dan, even your marriage has to be done all silly?’” There are tears slipping down Dan’s cheeks. Another stab to Brian’s heart. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Dan cry. He’s gotten choked up a little at NSP concerts, but those were happy almost-tears. Nothing like this.

Brian reaches out with his free hand to wipe Dan’s face.

Dan snorts.

“Shit, this is ridiculous,” he says, smiling wryly, his voice thick. He’s still not meeting Brian’s eyes. “How the hell am I all fucked up over the goddamn Graceland Chapel?”

“You’re just nervous,” Brian says gently, wiping Dan’s face again. “It’s totally natural. And regarding your parents – that’s totally natural too. It took you a little while to figure your life and career out, and when you did, it turned out to be an unconventional path. So it took a while to get your parents on board with the idea. But they get it, now, don’t they? You were never gonna be that suburban business dude with 2.5 kids.” He strokes his hand down Dan’s face and slides it down to caress the junction where neck meets shoulder. “You’re weird. I’m weird. All our friends are weird. That’s okay. We can be weird and do weird things as long as we’re happy and healthy.”

Dan sniffles and nods weakly. His teeth worry at his lip. “…I know,” he says thickly. “I know that deep down. And I still wanna marry you.” He squeezes Brian’s hand again. “This place, though…there’s just something about it. I’m just feeling really messed up about it all of a sudden. I don’t know how to explain it.”

They sit in silence for a few moments while Brian rubs comforting circles into Dan’s back and wracks his brain for a solution.

Then it occurs to him, and it seems so fucking obvious –

“—You know, we don’t have to get married in a chapel at all, right?”

“…What?”

“We don’t have to rent a chapel,” Brian repeats. “We don’t even have to have witnesses or a minister, either. We could easily just get rings, find a private spot, and just…say our vows.”

Dan blinks. “…Wouldn’t that, you know, not be legal? I mean, not _illegal_ , but not a legal union?”

“Easily taken care of with a trip to the courthouse any time after,” Brian says.

“So, why not just go to the courthouse in the first place?” Dan asks. “Wouldn’t that be more logical?”

“Completely,” Brian agrees. “Except…I’m not going for logic, dude. I’m going for emotion.”

Dan suddenly snorts and laughs.

“Would you get a load of this fuckin’ guy,” he says, blinking back the last few tears. “He’s come a long way from that old awkward dick in high school I’ve heard so much about.”

He kisses Brian.

Brian thinks, I could die right now.

Dan’s lips are so soft and plush, his mouth so warm and perfect. He tastes of Skittles and soda, and he keeps making these lovely sighing noises, his mouth moving perfectly against Brian’s…god, Brian wants to kiss him and kiss him for hours, but he could honestly die happy, if the world had to end right this second.

“Fuck,” Brian breaks the kiss after several long moments. He murmurs his words against Dan’s mouth. “Let’s go get fucking hitched already.”

“At nine at night?” Dan looks amused, but also blissed out and loose and gorgeous. A total sight for sore eyes.

“Fuck yes,” Brian replies. “There’s gotta be some jewelry store still open somewhere, it’s fucking Vegas.”

“Bri, we’re not even changed.”

“All the better. I want to marry you exactly as is.”

 

***

 

As it turns out, they encounter something even better than a jewelry store – a wonderfully quirky pawn shop not five minutes from the Chapel. The outside is prim and proper, yet the inside looks like something out of Whoville, painted in rainbow hues and jam-packed with treats and treasures and odds and ends. The stony-faced clerk doesn’t even bat an eye at the pair of them stumbling in, holding hands, looking travel-shabby and giddy.

“We close in ten,” the clerk says, “so make it quick.”

“Will do,” Dan says, giggling and tugging Brian towards a glass display case in the corner full of gold and silver knick-knacks.  

“You’re quite bouncy again,” Brian laughs.

“Can’t help it,” Dan says. “I’m so fucking stoked right now, shit. I can’t fucking believe we’re doing this.” He leans down to buss a kiss against Brian’s forehead. “I’m marrying you, I’m marrying you…”

Brian beams. It’s kind of beautiful, how bubbly Dan is again. “Can’t get married without our rings, baby.”

“I know, I know, help me find something.”

It’s like a lightning round of I Spy that they play right then, scouring the towering case for two men’s rings that seem like might possibly fit. Clock ticks, the clerk clucks their tongue at them while they look and look –

And then –

“Yes, fucking finally!” Dan points to a pack of large-ish sterling silver fashion rings towards the back of one of the case’s shelves. He looks at the clerk. “We’ll take those, please. And then we’ll be out of your hair, promise.”

“Hope those fit,” Brian says, squeezing Dan’s hand.

“We’ll fucking make ‘em fit,” Dan says, not letting go of Brian as completes the checkout process one-handed. “We can do anything, remember?”

Brian cracks up. “Within reason, dude.”

Dan grins and grabs the shopping bag from the clerk, giving a ‘thank you’ nod as he leads Brian to the exit. “This is perfectly within reason. They’re gonna fit, I just know it, okay?”

***

“Food?” Brian asks as they head back out on the road.

“I could eat,” Dan replies, “but maybe after the thing?”

Brian nods. “Celebratory dinner.”

“Exactly,” Dan says. “Flowers?”

“That sounds fabulous.”

They pop into a convenience store to get a bouquet of roses. Cheap as they are, they still smell rather sweet. And they aren’t wilting all that much, so they work.

Dan tosses a pad of paper and a pack of pens onto the counter as they check out.

“Gotta write our vows, right?” Dan murmurs.

 

***

 

It’s late, but Vegas isn’t dead – this is the time when it’s most alive. As they cruise along the highway, it’s all lurid lights and loudness flying by around them. Dan’s changed the tuning on the radio, and a raucous Bowie song is now blasting through the speakers, to match the _go go go_ excitement feeling of the night.

Things have been going by in a whirlwind since the stop at the Chapel, and Brian wants to start to slow down a bit.

They’re getting ready to make the pact of a lifetime, after all.

  _“Modern love walks beside me,”_ Dan sings. _“Modern love walks on by…”_

“Keep your eyes peeled for a good spot,” Brian says, his own eyes scanning all around. “Somewhere away from all…this.” He gestures out the window.

Dan smirks. “You were the one who wanted to come here in the first place.”

“Yes, well, minds can change, can’t they?”

“That’s for fucking sure.” Dan dances in his seat to the beat. “Didn’t even expect all this,” he says, shimmying. “I thought it was just gonna be a standard road trip.”

“Road trips always go off-track,” Brian replies. “Without fail.”

“The whole ‘it’s the journey, not the destination’ thing, right?” Dan slips his hand onto Brian’s knee, squeezes. Brian smiles.

“Sentiment’s right.” He reaches down to grasp Dan’s hand briefly before gripping the wheel again. “But in this case, the destination kind of does matter, so please keep looking!”

“Alright, alright, I know we gotta find our dream spot.” Dan turns to look out the window before resuming his Bowie sing-along. _“Never gonna fall for!”_

***

“I don’t know why, but…I wasn’t expecting something like this.”

“Hey, you found it, Dan.”

“I know! You always hear people going on and on about the Strip so much that most people – me included – never really think about this kind of stuff.”

It’s a lookout point. Dan, in a stroke of genius, had pulled out his phone to search up the best overlooks nearby, and one in Red Rock Canyon had come up first. Brian had followed the GPS up into the Scenic Route, where they’d had to pay an entrance fee, but beyond that, it was smooth sailing until they got to High Point Overlook.

Parked at the rough little lot, they have the most haunting view of the horizon line – they can see the dark shapes of the mountains and hills extend from far below them into the sky. The moon and stars are stark against the blue-black of the night.

There’s no one else around.

It’s impossibly lucky.

They’re quiet for a while, taking it all in.

Then Dan speaks again.

“Well, uh…we should probably get going, huh,” Dan says.

“Yeah, we should,” Brian replies.

Dan reaches into the back seat, retrieves the paper and pens. He tears off a few sheets, and gives them and a pen to Brian. Brian can see, even in the darkness, how Dan’s hands are trembling.

“Thank you,” Brian says, letting his fingers brush deliberately over Dan’s as he takes the items. “How about we write outside? Since we’re going to be reading out there, anyway?”

“Fine by me,” Dan agrees, just a bit shaky.

Dan ends up on the hood of the car, and Brian manages to clamber onto the roof.

Both perching comfortably, they compose their vows in silence.

 

***

 

“Finished, Bri?”

“Yeah, just about. You?”

“Mhm. Let’s do this.”

 

***

 

They stand facing one another in front of the car, with Dan’s phone propped up on the hood, providing them with light to read their papers and casting an ethereal glow on their faces.

The world around them seems to blend together, to melt away.

All that seems to exist are two people, and this one moment.

“Brian,” Dan begins, grasping Brian’s free hand with his own, “words can’t do this justice, but I’m going to try my best to use them.”

“I love you,” Dan says, and Brian feels the air rush out of his lungs. “I love everything about you. I spent so long feeling like a shadow of myself, like a phony, and you came along and showed me that I’m worth something. That I’m worth something to you. You’re a part of me, Bri. Stay with me?”

“Of course, Danny,” Brian says immediately, squeezing their fingers together. “Of course I will.”

Dan’s lips quirk up into a shaky smile.

“Your turn,” he murmurs.

Brian quickly scans over his written words, commits them to memory before crumpling the paper and tossing it away. Dan bursts into giggles.

“Littering? On our wedding night, babe?”

“I never said I was perfect.”

“Classy.”

“You know very well that I’d pick it up, but we’re sort of occupied here.”

It’s a joke, but they both sober up at the words.

Brian lays his free hand against Dan’s cheek.

“You’re lovely, Danny,” he says, stroking Dan’s skin with his thumb. “You’re radiant, and strong, and you bring out the absolute best in me. I love you with every fiber of my being. I want nothing more than to keep growing and creating with you, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“I’ll have you forever, Bri, shit,” Dan breathes.

“Rings?”

Dan fishes in his pocket for the pack of rings.

“I don’t even know which ones to wear,” he mumbles.

“Fuck, let’s wear them all,” Brian says.

“You mean it?”

“Why the hell not?”

“Fine by me, baby.” Dan lifts their joined hands to his lips and kisses the back of Brian’s hand before letting go. He grasps Brian’s hand and slides a ring on each of his fingers, then hands the pack over so Brian can reciprocate with him.

And then their left hands are adorned with cold, shiny silver.

They admire the sight, then they meet each other’s eyes again.

“Love you, Danny.”

“Love you, Brian.”

“By the power vested in me,” Brian says, a huge grin creeping onto his face, “I now pronounce us husband and fucking husband.”

“I’ll kiss the groom.” And Danny surges forward with a million-watt smile to thoroughly kiss the love of his life.

 _Fuck, do we even need a minister?_ Brian thinks as he winds his arms around Dan’s waist, kissing him back deeper and deeper. _This feels as binding as anything._

 

***

 

They consummate the marriage in the back of Brian’s car.

It’s slow and rough, dirty and beautiful.

Brian thinks that few things compare to the sight of Danny coming, eyes dark and staring up at Brian like he’s his whole universe.

Brian wants to burrow into Dan’s skin and never leave.

 

***

 

Saturday morning rolls in, and wakes them from their post-coitus slumber.

“You know, I never gave you these,” Dan murmurs, pressing his lips to Brian’s forehead and holding something in front of Brian’s face.

Brian’s eyes flutter open.

It’s the roses.

“Fuck, I have the best husband ever,” he laughs, taking them. “Such a sweetheart.” He makes like he’s going in for a kiss, then stops at the last second. “Soon as we get some breakfast and find a motel? I’m totally sexing you up again.”

“Not if I can help it, you fucker,” Dan says, and tries to pin him down and smother him with kisses while Brian cackles up a storm.

 

***

 

Eventually they pull their clothes on and drive back into town.

They get settled into a cozy booth at the first diner they find, and over a delightfully greasy breakfast, Dan phones his sister.

Brian watches him, contemplative.

The reality of it is catching up with him – Dan is his. He is Dan’s.

He sees so many visions of the possible future – he and Dan a decade into marriage, snuggled up on the couch and watching VH1. The two of them in their 60s, still playing shows, rocking a Pet Shop Boys meets Weird Al Yankovic vibe. A spectrum of fans, young and old, steadily growing with them over the years. Brian getting back into academia by way of giving lectures in his spare time, regaling stories of his ridiculous husband to fresh-faced college kids. Going home to a lovely, kitschy house with Dan, and having a whole mess of animals.

Late nights in bed, lying curled up into one another, talking and telling stories into the darkness.

 _I can have this,_ Brian thinks. _I can have all this, and more._

Snippets of Dana squealing through the phone break Brian out of his thoughts.

“Hey! Hand me the phone.” Dan snorts and passes it over to Brian.

“Dana, we’re telling you now,” he says, laughing. “I promise you, you’re the first to know. Even before your parents, yes – it’s a bit of a secret right now, we were waiting to announce it to them, if you could please hold off spilling the news for a few more days, that’d be golden…! What’s your afternoon looking like? How about you meet us at the courthouse around 5?”

 

***

 

The next couple hours go by in a blissful blur. Finally settling in a motel to shower and nap. Waking in time to get ready – dress shirts and pants, carnations tucked in the breast pockets, hair pulled back and/or gelled. Making their way to the courthouse. Holding the ceremony, Dana tearing up and laughing as they re-use all the cheapo rings they’d told her about.

Getting the license signed. Cake and kisses from Dana at a nearby restaurant.

The rest of the evening spent goofing around on the Vegas Strip with her until she has to turn in for the night.

Coming back to the motel, tipsy off tequila shots and drunk on happiness, and making love until the wee hours of Sunday morning.

“You know,” Dan says softly once they’re sated and sleepy, “we can’t keep wearing all these.” He lifts his hand and wiggles his ringed fingers in front of Brian’s face.

“Why not? They look so pretty.” Indeed, the faint sunlight from the window is catching on the metal and glinting off them in a cool way. Brian takes Dan’s hand and kisses each of his fingers. Dan hums happily.

“Yeah, don’t they?” He smiles. “But I don’t wanna risk us losing them all.”

“Ugh, you’re such a fucking party pooper,” Brian rolls his eyes playfully. “Fine. Pick your favorite two. You pick mine, I’ll pick yours.”

“Deal.” Dan leans in to kiss him. “In the morning, though. I’m too tired.”

“It is morning, Daniel.”

“I mean in the real morning, Brian.”

“What’s ‘real morning?’ Are you saying that this is somehow fake? What’s your criteria for –”

Dan buries his face into the pillow and groans. “Fuck, I’m regretting this marriage already.”

Brian cackles.

 

***

 

When ‘real morning’ arrives – otherwise known as ‘the afternoon’ – Brian and Dan pack back up into the car and start heading home.

It’s mostly quiet between them now. A comfortable silence, as soul music plays on the stereo.

“You’re staying at my place tonight, right?” Brian jokingly asks over Michael Kiwanuka’s crooning vocals.

“Of-fucking-course.” Dan gives him a brilliant smile. He squeezes Brian’s knee. “It’s gonna be my place too, soon, right?”

 

***

 

Monday comes.

And with that, comes the big question, from Brian:

“So, when do you wanna tell the rest of the Grumps?”

“Pretty soon,” Dan says, as they walk into the Grump Space. “Like…preferably today.” He lowers his voice. “I wanna surprise them, though.”

“How so?”

Dan puts his index finger and thumb together and draws them across his lips. “Just follow my lead.”

Brian does.

He’s quiet as Dan makes no mention of anything, gives no clues or hints or indications during the day.

Then they’re filming an episode of Grumpcade, Brian and Dan and Arin – and Arin asks how their weekend went.

“Decent,” Dan replies. “Had dinner with my sister, Brian and I got married. Pretty fun.”

“Wait, what?”

“We had dinner with –

“ _No_ , you know damn well that’s not what I’m asking about, Dan, what the actual fuck?” Arin stares at him in shock and awe. “You’re lying. Are you lying?” He whips around to look at Brian. “Is he lying?? You guys did not get _hitched_ and not fucking _tell_ anyone, _are you fucking kidding me right now_ –

Brian smirks.

 _Oh fuck, is my husband brilliant,_ he thinks, as Arin splutters.

Dan winks at him over Arin’s shoulder.

_Husband of the fucking century._

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated! Thanks so much for reading!  
> Hit me up on tumblr if you wanna geek out w/me about NSP, 80s music, and memes -- brotherlode.tumblr.com :)


End file.
